


Taboo

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [46]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Incest roleplay, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Sexual Roleplay, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 15:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Dean isn't prepared for what Marlon decides to spring upon him. That doesn't stop him from playing along.





	Taboo

* * *

As usual, Dean’s the first one to arrive home. His workdays have become a lot shorter since he’s no longer a trainee. It sucks, since the rest of his pack often work long days just like all his friends do. He has too much time alone. 

By the time the next person arrives home, he’s changed into Luci’s sweats and Sam’s tee, cleaned, done laundry, baked bread, fed the cat, cared for all the plants and started dinner. He’s chopping vegetables when Marlon comes into the kitchen determinedly striding towards him. Startled, he notices that Marlon’s hair is unkempt, and that he’s wearing jeans, a dark blue shirt hanging open over a military green tee. Then Marlon brackets him with his arms, hands grabbing the counter, his back to Marlon’s chest. Marlon’s wearing a watch but it’s not his usual one. This one’s worn with a broad, brown leather cuff. Marlon nuzzles his neck and Dean can feel stubble. It’s not his mate’s usual short morning stubble. No, it’s longer. Must have taken him at least two days to grow. Come to think of it, he hasn’t seen Marlon for two days. It’s nothing unusual in this household, he’s come to learn. Someone is always gone on a business trip, working late, or busy doing who knows what. It’s no wonder it had been difficult finding good days for the pack date and to hang out to get to know each other. But with stubble like that, there’s no way Marlon could have been away for meetings or councils. Dean’s heart starts beating rapidly. “Hey... I’ve cleaned and taken care of the laundry. Dinner will be done in an hour and there’s freshly baked bread if you can’t wait that long,” he says, almost feeling nervous but not knowing why. There’s something familiar about all this but he can’t put a finger on it.

“Well done, son. I raised you right,” Marlon says lowly just by Dean’s ear, making the little hairs on his neck stand on end. He freezes in confusion. “Bobby's working on a car, and Sam won't be home from school for another hour,” Marlon continues, then pauses with an air of anticipation.

That's when Dean gets what Marlon is doing, what’s familiar about the watch, clothes and stubble. “D-dad?” he stutters. Sam has a picture of their dad framed on a wall in his room. Marlon’s dressed roughly in the same getup as dad in that picture.

“Yes, son?” Marlon answers.

They hadn't broached the topic of roleplaying the taboo since the brief mention that first time together. Since then, Marlon has earned a diploma in the course 'How to Turn Your Mate into a Shuddering Mess of Shame, Guilt, and Excitement’, so Dean shouldn’t be surprised Marlon springs this on him. He's tense all over, breathing carefully. He hates how he went from zero to ten in arousal so quickly. He hates it because it really shows how much he still hasn't started to untangle his complicated, twisted feelings for dad. 

Dean pushes his ass out to carefully press back on Marlon's crotch. He closes his eyes and holds still. 

"Son?" Marlon hasn't set a tone for this roleplay. He leaves that choice to Dean. Dean could choose to play this without the shame brought by his feelings for his dad...

That would feel too disconnected from the core. Someone else's fantasy.

"Just once, dad. Nobody has to know," Dean begs hushedly, voice rough and catching on the knot of emotions in his throat.

Marlon shifts and rests his forehead against the back of Dean's head. One of his hands relinquishes its hold on the counter to land on Dean's hip, and he lets out a shuddering breath. A+ acting. "If we do it once, boy, it ain't gonna be just once. You know that," he says quietly, as if he's afraid someone will overhear despite them being alone. He’s picking up the tone Dean just set. Dean can hear a slight accent when Marlon talks. He’s mimicking Sam and Dean, using Dean’s own way of speaking: the lingo, the cadence, the Midwestern drawl. Any time they roleplay, Dean is reminded both that Marlon is one helluva liar and that he trained as an undercover agent in his youth. They’ve roleplayed before: Flipped Alpha Omega roles, with Dean following Marlon around deep-purring. Pretended to be a deeply Conservative couple, faked that Marlon was a stranger and that Dean cheated on his mates with him, and pretended Marlon was a drill sergeant and Dean a new recruit. All fun and games since he had no emotional stake in those scenarios. But this is another matter.

Dean’s jaws clench. Marlon has no way of knowing how real this feels, how many times John and Dean hovered right here on this razor’s edge, almost falling over, waiting, dreading, hoping in the suffocating silence of a moment. The words. That’s what makes this different. They never spoke about it. No questions. No explanations. No apologies. No excuses. John would reach behind Dean to get a cup for his coffee, freezing in position when they brushed up against each other, the world suddenly falling away to consist of only them and a jeans-clothed erection pressed against sweats rapidly soaking in slick, Dean pressing back in slow-motion. The two of them trembling, sweating from restraint until the sound of Sam moving around in the house broke the spell and John withdrew. 

_Yeah, but we don’t talk about that_, Dean thinks. The rest of the world might find ‘bio-compulsion’ fascinating. ‘Isn’t it interesting how people feel compelled to fuck their Main/Patriarch/Alpha parent?’ Well, fuck them and fuck science. Calling it science doesn’t change the fact that there are real people with very real, very tangible emotions struggling through it. Resisting had forced both of them to combat rejection-depression.

“I don’t care.” Dean pushes his ass more resolutely against Marlon’s semi.

Marlon’s hand squeezes Dean's hip. He rubs his nose along the leaking secretion on Dean's neck. Dean can smell his arousal and feel him go from a semi to full mast. “People will talk, son. We wouldn’t be able to hide it forever.”

Denial is a human superpower. A lot of the time life had been normal in the Winchester household. If you don't address it, it doesn't exist, right? So what if someone got an awkward boner once in a while? Lying on his side on the couch with his head on dad's lap and Sam sitting in the crook of his legs reading. When Dean was a kit and Juvie, lying in that position, dad would pet his hair. Then, presented, Dean would be on his back with Cas on top, both using John's thigh as a pillow while Sam perched on top of them. Dad would pet both Dean and Cas' hair. It was great. Dean felt the forbidden attraction to dad back then, too, but Cas had always been enough for Dean. Only when Cas was gone did it become volatile. Dean would still lie with his head on dad's lap while Sam sat snuggled up by his legs. Dad would still stroke his hair, but instead of comfort, goosebumps tickled his skin and slick dribbled down his thighs. The only one to address it with words was Sam. '_Gods, Dean! Do you have to get so wet all the time?_' he'd say and resolutely shove a blanket between them so he wouldn't get wet where Dean had soaked his pants with slick. Kits and Juvies are hellspawn that way. But for Sam, an O getting wet for no apparent reason was normal albeit inconvenient. He didn’t see the connection. So Dean lay there soaking himself while dad tented his jeans, both pretending there was nothing different going on from when Dean was a kit. Both pretending the air wasn’t buzzing with tension. Denial is a super power that kept them at status quo, but it had side-effects. Pining, depression, anxiety.

“Dad, I don’t want to hide.” With Marlon, the words come to Dean, but they still don’t come easy.

Marlon hisses between his teeth. “Think of the consequences, boy,” he whispers, voice full of suffering and longing. His hand squeezes Dean’s hip as if he’s truly locked into an internal battle of wills. A. Plus. Acting.

Dean keeps quiet, waiting. He’s buzzing inside, holding his breath, pleading, praying, hoping.

Marlon lets out a heavy breath, tickling Dean’s neck. His hand lets go of the hip and inches its way into Dean’s pants. Slowly, glacially slow, it glides down over a butt cheek until a finger finally comes into contact with the slick around Dean’s hole. He pauses then, breathes roughly. Dean can feel tremors in Marlon’s hand. His own thoughts are a long strain of ‘_Please please please_’ on endless repeat.

Marlon pushes his finger inside with a soft groan. “Son?”

“Do it.”

Marlon’s still for another long moment. The tension is so high the whole kitchen seems filled with static electricity. Marlon’s chest is heaving. There’s distress mixed in with the scent of his arousal. Part of Dean wants to ask how he’s doing that. _Fucking how?_ How do you act with your scent? But the thought is fleeting, the greater part of Dean’s mind is lost in the fantasy.

Finally, Marlon pulls out his finger, pulls Dean’s pants down and scrambles to open his zipper. He pulls his dick out and presses the head to Dean’s hole. Dean lets out a soft ‘_Hoh_,’ and spreads his legs wider.

Marlon stills and Dean wants to roar angrily at him for stopping. That’s something else that makes this different, that doesn’t sync with the reality between John and Dean in the years after Cas’ death. Dean would never have roared at dad for doing the right thing, for resisting. Even after Dean stopped caring and left the resisting to dad, he was never angry at dad for not crossing the line.

“My condoms are in the bedroom,” Marlon laments in a whisper.

“No. Do it. Pull out.” Dean curses inwardly how ineloquent he is, his mind lost between memories, old longings, and this fantasy. He searches for the words that will make Marlon understand what he really means, but Marlon already caught his meaning, and the scent of his arousal goes from high to all-encompassing as he starts pushing in. Condoms were never part of the equation. Condoms would have represented acceptance of the deed, premeditation, instead of loss of control and defeat. Of course, if dad had ever crossed the line Dean wouldn’t have asked him to pull out. It would have been all-in or nothing. That was always understood in the looks shared in any will-we-or-won’t-we moments. It wasn’t a matter of a quick fuck to get it out of their system, it was dad asking himself the question ‘am I going to mate my own son and raise our kits together’.

Dean remembers what Marlon told him of his youth. Marlon’s obsessed with kits. He loves them. There’s no doubt he’d love to get Dean pregnant. By asking him to go in bare but to pull out, Dean’s putting almost as high of a demand of control on Marlon as dad was burdened with after Dean stopped caring for right and wrong.

When Marlon bottoms out, both their chests are heaving. Marlon wraps his arms around Dean and rests his forehead against the back of Dean’s head again. He’s shaking. Dean realises he, too, is shaking. Marlon holds still and Dean’s never before been so aware of being filled. It’s as if his body’s measuring every inch inside of him. Marlon shifts to tongue over the gland at the base of Dean’s neck. Dean keens and promptly gets a hand over his mouth and nose. “_Sssh,_” Marlon hushes urgently.

That’s a kink Dean’s discovered with Marlon. He isn’t shy about having sex in public. But when he’d stopped by City Hall and Marlon forced him to be quiet to avoid detection, that totally did it for him. If he was the type to self-analyze, he might think it had its roots in this exact situation they’re roleplaying. As it is, Dean couldn’t care less about why.

He whines and tampers down his mewl. Marlon removes his hand and goes on licking until Dean’s legs threaten to buckle, the only sound escaping him are the occasional whimpers.

Suddenly, they hear the apartment door open.

Marlon springs away with a swallowed yelp and Dean jerks his pants up and turns around, breath caught in his throat. Marlon’s backing away trying to shove his erection back into his pants and get his zipper up, eyes wide in horror as if they’d actually been doing something they shouldn’t. Dean’s trembling, heart trying to beat itself out of his chest.

A few seconds later Raff enters the kitchen. Marlon’s just sat down and grabbed a newspaper he pretends to read.

“Hey,” Dean says and plasters on a smile. “You’re home early.”

Raff grins. “Yes. For once everything’s been smooth sailing and we finished our last meeting a whole hour early,” he says and goes to give Dean an affectionate temple rub and a kiss on the cheek. “Dick asked me to tell you he’s grabbing drinks with Crowley and Balt. He’ll be eating with them, but wanted me to ask if you could save him a lunch box for tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I just got started with dinner. Wanna help?” Dean flusters and dries off his hands on his pants.

“Sure.”

“Great. If you cut these…” Dean rattles off instructions and asks about Raff’s day, trying to get his head descrambled. When Raff has his back to Marlon, cutting vegetables, Dean throws a glance over his shoulder to meet Marlon’s gaze. Marlon’s expression is one of ‘Shit, we almost got caught.’ Somehow that makes it take even longer for Dean’s heart to stop racing. It’s irrational and he knows it. Marlon’s his fucking mate, and Raff wouldn’t have lifted an eyebrow if he’d found them fucking in the kitchen. So, it’s totally and completely irrational to be as shook up as Dean is. But he is.

He had hoped that after this, his wet dreams about John Winchester would stop. Sadly, that’s not the case. If anything, they become more frequent. What does happen, though, is a new kind of tension between him and Marlon. One that Marlon can ignite with a certain look or body language.

_But we don’t talk about that,_ Dean thinks. _No. We never talk about that._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> You should never spring something like this on your partner without talking it through first to make sure they're okay with it. Whether we're talking advanced roleplay, BDSM, specific kinks, threesomes, or other sensitive sexual behaviours. By putting Dean on the spot like this Dean might have felt he had no choice and might have been put in a bad mental state afterwards for enacting one of his biggest emotional issues.  
For an instance, Marlon could have talked about it beforehand, gotten confirmation that, yes, Dean would like to try, and then informed Dean he would make it happen when Dean wasn't expecting it, getting a green light for that too. Dean might not know when it would happen, but he'd get a chance to mentally prepare. However, these two are experimenting a lot, figuring things out as they go. They'll make mistakes and correct them. 10 years from now they're likely to have a whole system in place to make sure both of them are comfortable with whatever they get up to.
> 
> Marlon and Dean's relationship has the potential to become destructive very fast due to their personalities. We are going to see hints of that now and then. But thankfully, neither of them wants it to, and they're surrounded by people who help them avoid falling into the deep end so they can go on to have a healthy, happy relationship.


End file.
